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“I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower, you hung all your associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see—and I don't.”
― Georgia O'Keeffe

I'll go first then .. I wrote this poem yesterday. I was in the shower and some really smart words were coming into my head but i couldn't remember them when i had the pen and paper in my hand so this ended up being the final product. I even got most of it to rhyme

I think my subconscious was giving me a pep talk.

My Friend, fear not.

You cannot see
What your life is meant to be
Experiences have tainted your sight
But fear not my friend
It will soon come to an end
And your life will soon come to light

Release your fear
And keep that strength
Hold your head high
And restrain from looking down
For that continuous, lingering sigh
Has finally come around

You radiate your glow
To all those you touch
Now go forth my friend
And remain as such

The magnificent fortitude
Of all you can be
Don't allow this to be wasted
On insignificant negitivity

Be your own leader
Put your best foot forward
You have the strength
Of many victorious warriors

I trust in you, i too can believe
You'll make your mark
Just allow the idea to conceive

You are a warrior my friend
Now go, do and be
Then you'll see
When you drop that baggage
You too will be free

“I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower, you hung all your associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see—and I don't.”
― Georgia O'Keeffe

I draw... [sometimes]
Animals, anthropomorphics and people mostly, as I find them the most interesting.
I also write... [sometimes]
But I share that considerably less frequently as I think writing is a lot more personal than my art.

Anyway I'm aware there's not much in my gallery at present, but there's more in the works if I can ever force myself to sit down and finish something worthwhile. Enjoy!

“I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower, you hung all your associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see—and I don't.”
― Georgia O'Keeffe

Drums. That's about the extent of any creativity I have. I feel like I have a good eye for art, but I can't create much. I've never spent any amount of time with it though, because I get too frustrated.

I've always played music - it runs in my family. I play some drums and piano. And back in the day, I liked to draw. I used to be good for my age, but not at all anymore. I still doodle when I feel so inclined.

I like writing poetry sometimes, but I mostly think of it as a challenge or a writing exercise, and not as a form of expression.

I also have been working on a story, off and on, for a few years. It's a bit generic as of now (and I'm trying to fix that, but haven't come up with a plot twist yet), but I'd like to think that it's compensated by the voices of the narrators. That's where I have the most fun, and I'd like to think that people can tell that when they read it.

But most of my creativity is channeled through... knitting! I say that because, though I usually use patterns, I will occasionally make up my own.

For example...

an iPod cozy of my own design!

Now... where's my cupcake?

”We know a little about a lot of things; just enough to make us dangerous.”

Also, I wrote this poem a while ago (inspired by The Matrix trilogy)...

Nothing was right until he found you.
You never felt like you belonged.
You were the black sheep,
the white rabbit with reddened eyes
made sore from too many hours
searching for a gate out of reality,
or an entrance to reality,
that you could never pass through.
The world was green,
a scrolling artificiality,
flashing lights and a throbbing pulse,
empty suits, empty metaphors,
Falsity.

Then, there he was.
a voice of earth and stone,
smooth, august,
otherworldly,
Real.
His eyes were mirrors into dreams,
and he offered you the cure.
Two gateways,
blue and red,
and there was no choice.
Through the red gate, you transcended;
a fearful humming,
a shimmering cold,
and the silver dragon, shining and alive,
Swallowed you.

And you awoke.
You awoke!
Freed from the soft, maternal cage,
the codes and needles and plugs,
And suddenly free to fulfill
The One purpose.
You will return the world
to the organic, wool-clad,
red-blooded, blue tinted and
passion-driven
Humanity
of times long forgotten.

But first, you must come to
Accept who you are,
and realize what is
and what isn’t.
The Door
has been shown to you.
Now you must tear it
from its hinges
and lead the world
Out.

”We know a little about a lot of things; just enough to make us dangerous.”